#roe au fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theweirdgoodbyes · 2 months

Text

“C’mon, lemme help you. You’re breakin’ my heart.”

It’s a Thursday night, the Eagles are playing against the Patriots, and Babe Heffron is one miserable son of a bitch. He had called Bill for an emergency meeting after a particularly gruesome day at work, which including him chasing a student eloping out of the building and down the streets of Philadelphia in 15 degree weather. Why administration hadn’t listened to him about needing locks on his doors, he’ll never understand. Babe ended the day freezing, frustrated, and with a pile of paperwork. He loved his job as a special education teacher, and loved making a difference in young lives. But days like today always brought him back to their familiar spot, The Currahee, much needed beer in hand. One beer had turned into two, and then three, and then Babe lamenting his lonely existence as a perpetually single gay man.

“Pussy hound Bill Guarnere wants to help me pick up a guy? Has hell frozen over?” Babe asks sarcastically, pressing two fingers to the pulse in his neck, “Am I dead?”

“Shaddup. Don’t act like the guys wouldn’t go crazy over me.”

Babe leans forward, reaching out to pat Bill’s arm, “Oh, baby, you drive me crazy alright.”

Babe would do anything for Bill Guarnere. When they were sixteen, and Babe finally understood why he didn’t look at girls the way other guys did, he was terrified to tell Bill that he was gay. Bill, all rough edges and macho energy, had been his best friend since the first day of kindergarten. “You tryna play?” Bill had barked at him the moment Babe stepped into the classroom, still clinging to his mother’s legs. From that moment on the two of them were inseparable. The idea of losing Bill was scarier than anything he could think of, and it took Babe months and several pep talks in the mirror to muster up the courage. So one fateful night, as they drank some stolen beers on Babe’s childhood trampoline, Babe just blurted it out.

“Bill, I like guys.”

Bill was silent for a moment, before tossing his beer over the netting and rolling on top of Babe to envelop him in a giant hug. Babe hugged him back and fought back tears against his shoulder, comforted by Bill’s gruff assurances that best friends forever meant forever. Ten years later, here they are, still thick as thieves, and Bill is adamant that all of Babe’s problems will be solved by getting laid.

“Alright, ‘nough of the funny business,” Bill puts his hands up, as serious as he could ever be. “You want my help or not? I’m tired of listenin’ to you piss and moan over what’s his face.”

“Henry,” Babe sighs, thinking of his ex boyfriend. They had only dated for the summer while Henry was doing an internship in the area. He had gone back to Buffalo in August, and Babe’s love life has been bleak since.

“Yeah, Fuckface McGee, him. You were too good for him, Babe, didn’t I always tell you that?” Bill raises a furry eyebrow, forgetting that according to him Babe was too good for every boyfriend he’s had. He had also taken up the obnoxious but well-meaning habit of running every guy Babe had ever spoken to through the database at the police station, with something as small as a speeding ticket enough to make him concerned. “How long have you known me?”

“Too damn long.”

“And have I ever steered you wrong?”

Before Babe can open his mouth, Bill points at him with a shake of his head, “Don’t answer that. Take a good look around this bar and take your pick. Daddy’s gonna help you.”

Babe looks around the bar. It’s a freezing night in January, so it’s only regulars like him and Bill who have no better place to be. He scans past familiar faces until he sees someone he doesn’t recognize.

“Him.”

Bill turns to look. This stranger is sitting at the bar, eyes laser-focused on the game playing above him. Babe can’t make out the color, but can feel the intensity in them from across the room. He’s got a short crop of black hair to match his furrowed brows, a bit of stubble, and lips that Babe is very interested in seeing up close.

“That guy? The little one with the face?”

“He’s not little.”

“You think he’s on your team?”

Babe keeps looking at this handsome stranger, taking more of him in. His gaydar has always been horrible, highlighted by the confident kiss he had once given his buddy Welsh only to gently be told that friends is all they would ever be. Babe runs on the assumption because it’s 2024, and the world is a much more accepting place than it was ten years ago, that trying to hit on a straight guy isn’t the worst thing that could happen. The stranger is still wearing his coat, despite the stuffy bar air, arms crossed and hands tucked under his armpits like he’s cold. He’s found a lonely corner of the bar, and the drink in front of him is empty. He’s got an air about him that’s says “leave me the fuck alone”, and Babe sees him shake his head when the bartender goes over. Maybe he’s getting ready to leave, he thinks. Babe starts to second guess himself, and begins looking around to see his other options. Handsome Stranger’s mysterious vibe is intriguing, but the possibility of rejection would put Babe in the ground after his rough day.

“I’m goin’ in,” Bill stands up before Babe can protest and struts over to the bar, misplaced confidence oozing out of him.

Babe can only watch in horror as Bill plops himself down next to Handsome Stranger, sticks out a meaty hand, and begins to jabber away. He decides that’s all he needs to see and sets his sight on the nearest TV just in time to watch the Eagles make a touchdown. At least it’s a good day for the Bird Gang.

A moment passes and Babe finds the courage to look back at the bar. He sees Bill stomping back over to him, face contorted in a scowl that Babe is all too familiar with. The conversation cannot have gone in his favor. The guy is definitely straight, potentially homophobic based on Bill’s visible anger.

“What did he say?” Babe dares to ask. He puts his glass to his lips, praying for a miracle.

“First of all, kid must be fuckin’ blind because he took one look at me and says ‘Absolutely not’.”

Babe chokes on his beer, sputtering foam all over the table. He pounds his chest with his fist, willing himself to breathe through his laughter. It’s not often that Bill faces rejection, and the obvious wound to his ego is something Babe will savor for years to come.

“So I says, ‘Listen, toots’-“

Babe’s laughter is cut short and he groans, because of course Bill would make an ass of himself, and by extension, Babe. “Bill, no, you did not call him ‘toots’-“

“I says, ‘first of all, you ain’t my type, with the lack of tits and that pissy pout-“

“BILL!”

“-and you ain’t for me, you’re for the poor fucker sittin’ over here’”, Bill plops back down in his chair, shaking his head. He finishes his beer and sighs, like the interaction has exhausted him, “And then I walked away before I punched him in the mouth.”

Babe just drops his head down on the table. This isn’t the first time Bill has been an absolute beast in public, and it certainly won’t be the last. Babe’s minuscule dream of a night not spent alone has been dashed.

“You need a muzzle,” he mumbles to the wood, “I’m gonna have to tie you to the pole outside. Put up a sign that says, ‘please don’t pet me, I bite’.”

“Don’t be a prick. Can’t say I didn’t tr-“

“Hey.”

Babe looks up and Jesus Christ, Handsome Stranger is standing right in front of him. Although the bar is quieter than usual, the man had appeared with such silence that Babe wonders if he appeared out of thin air. He can barely believe this is real, certain that the guy was either straight or so repulsed by Bill that all hope was lost.

“Hey,” he squeaks out. Oh, Christ. He clears his throat and repeats himself, “Hey.”

The guy stares at him with those dark eyebrows still furrowed, like he’s looking at something under a microscope. Suddenly self-conscious under his unrelenting gaze, Babe runs his hand over his forehead, trying to rub away any red mark that might be left from slamming his head down.

God, up close he really is hot. His eyes are somewhere between blue and grey, complimented by the blue scrubs he’s wearing under his coat. Babe feels his cheeks turning as red as his hair, but unable to look away from those unblinking eyes. Over the hum of distant conversations and game commentary, Babe wonders if Handsome Stranger can hear his heart thumping out of his chest.

“You his friend?” He sticks a thumb at Bill, who immediately straightens up.

“His best friend, actu-“

“Give me your phone.”

Babe could fall out of his chair. There’s no way.

“My what?”

“Your phone. It’s right there.” Handsome Stranger points to where it rests on the table next to Babe’s glass.

“Oh, yeah, sure, here.” Babe scrambles to grab his phone and unlock it, handing it over quicker than he would like to admit.

The stranger taps at it and then quickly types something in and hands it back to Babe. He looks to see his contacts open, with a new addition: Eugene Roe. He doesn’t recognize the area code, explaining why he’s never seen this Eugene before tonight.

“Cool beans,” is all Babe can think to say because holy shit, he did not expect Bill to actually pull through with this. When he looks up again, Eugene Roe is gone. He looks to the door just in time to see it swing shut, catching a quick glimpse of white sneakers walking away.

Bill gives him a shit eat grinning and grabs his shoulders to give him a rough shake.

“Cool beans? What are you, fuckin’ twelve?”

“I panicked,” Babe defends himself. He can’t help but smile and looks back at his phone. He wonders if it would make him seem desperate to text him right now. Yeah, it would, he decides, maybe he’ll wait an hour-

Bill cackles, a sound that shocks Babe back into reality. “Never say I never did nothin’ for you, even though that guy is already on thin fuckin’ ice with me. Now go buy me a beer. The king is thirsty.”

Babe happily obliges, making his way over to the bar in a half-daze. While the bartender pours Bill’s beer, Babe looks back over to where his handsome no-longer a stranger was sitting. Eugene Roe, he thinks, who are you?

(Now posted on my ao3 with some edits! https://archiveofourown.org/works/53977666#work_endnotes)

#wrote this because wingman Bill had the potential for such chaos #as of right now this is a one shot but we shall see what happens!#fanfic #fanfiction #band of brothers #hbo war #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers fanfiction #baberoe #eugene roe #babe heffron #bill guarnere #modern au #Maddie writes

41 notes · View notes

softguarnere · 9 months

Text

You've Got a Side You Can't Explain

Skinny Sisk x reader, brief Floyd Talbert x reader

A soulmate au in which whenever your soulmate is injured, flowers bloom in the same spot on your body

A/N: Today marks the one year anniversary of me creating this blog 🥳 I've greatly enjoyed my time in this fandom, and I wanted to write something to mark the occasion. I created a poll a while back asking what fic you guys would like, and a soulmate au with Skinny won the day - which I'm super pleased about, because he's underrated 🤭 (This is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) Title comes from Wildflower by 5SOS. Thanks to anyone who voted in the poll 💕🕊️ I hope you like this! Warnings: war, injury, blood, alcohol

"They must be adventurous," your mother always says when she spots the flowers blooming on your knees and elbows. That is where the flowers always seem to appear, which must mean that your soulmate is always hurting them. From skinned knees and scratched elbows, presumably – maybe from climbing trees or running too fast.

"Or clumsy," your father will add with a sigh in later years, when the flowers still seem to appear just as often as they did in childhood. Most people get them less often as they get older, but not you.

Your mother always shoots him a tight-lipped glare before offering you a reassuring smile. "They must play sports, or something. Or be a hard worker."

Sometimes you wonder if your soulmate, whoever they are, is disappointed by the lack of injuries you get as you grow up. There's the occasional bruise on your leg from knocking into the coffee table that your father refuses to move, and the odd nick on your finger from helping out in the kitchen, but in comparison to the number of flowers that they give you, there is a definite imbalance.

The store near your house sells beautiful bouquets. You tell yourself that once you meet them – if you meet them, a worried voice always cautions in the back of your mind – that you will buy them flowers often, just to make up for the lack of them that litter their skin. Or you could pick the wild ones, that grow so pretty and untamed along the road.

But all of that depends on the both of you making it through the war first.

. . .

You tell yourself that you didn't sign up to be a nurse in the hopes that it will somehow bring you closer to your soulmate. After all, what are the odds of finding them in your hometown? The war is moving people all over the world, shifting them around, shuffling them up. Becoming a nurse will allow you to put some good into the world, covering up all the bad that the Germans have been spreading all over Europe, but you can’t deny the hopeful thrum that runs through your heart whenever you imagine meeting your soulmate in the midst of all that movement. Finding them would be like standing in the eye of a hurricane, finding some calm, even if just for a moment.

Flowers have been staining your skin since the US joined the war. There’s no doubt in your mind that somewhere out there, your soulmate is going through boot camp – and getting quite a few bruises in the process, if all the small flowers that litter your arms are anything to go on.

“Looks like he’s skinned his knees – again.” Lorieli, the spunky nurse who you met during your first week, nods down to your legs.

You tug the starchy white fabric of your skirt down, hoping to cover the small blooms of color that are revealed every time that you move too quickly. Flowers are nothing to be embarrassed about. Most people get them, yes, though you more than most. Which is also not something to be ashamed of. It has, however, become sort of a running joke among the other nurses that you’re never without flowers.

“Well,” you say with a bright smile. “he’s given me so many flowers that I can never be mad if he forgets them on my birthday.”

Several other nurses giggle.

“When you finally meet him, you’ll have to give him a bouquet,” one of them suggests. “that way you can call it even.”

“He’ll get the works,” you say, thinking of all the times throughout your life that you’ve had the same thought. “Carnations, sunflowers, chrysanthemums. But who knows? Maybe I should just start stubbing my toes all the time so that I can catch up with him, call it even.”

Another nearby nurse tilts her head, trying to catch a glimpse of your knees. “Gladiolus,” she notes. “Those represent determination. At least he’s got a strong will.”

“And poor balance!” Someone else teases.

You hardly hear her, though. Determination. The thought rings in your mind. What flowers does he get from you whenever you find yourself injured?

. . .

Standing amongst the scarred earth and remnants of battle, you can’t help but wonder if this is what the surface of lifeless planets feel like. Lonely, barren. Other planets, at least, have probably always been that way. Or they give the appearance of having always been. But here, a deep feeling of sadness pervades as your eyes take in the evidence of war. Something happened here, the scene says instead.

Slowly, you walk along, keeping your eyes peeled for any soldier who may need help. Death gazes up at you from every face you see, though. The Day of Days may have been an event that’s thrilling to know you took part in, but any exhilaration you may feel is immediately snuffed out by the knowledge that so many perished to make it happen.

“Hey,” a soft voice pulls you from your thoughts. A few feet away stands a combat medic, the stark red cross on his arm band immediately providing you with a sense of kinship despite the fact that, to your knowledge, you’ve never met before. His dark eyebrows are knit together as he watches you. “Are you okay?”

You nod. Then, so as not to come across as rude, you clear your throat to speak. “I’m fine. Just – “ You glance around at the scene before you. “ – thinking, is all.”

The medic watches you for a moment, the expression in his dark eyes inscrutable. “The other nurses are looking for you back at the Aid Station,” he finally says. “I think we’re all about to move out.”

Taking one last look at the world around you, you sigh before steeling yourself and turning back from the direction that you came. “We should be heading back, then.”

Trying to lessen the tension, you extend your hand to the medic as you walk. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Eugene Roe.” He has a firm grip. A good, solid handshake.

“Where do you think we’re going from here?”

Roe shrugs. “I don’t know. But at least we’re finally getting away from Carentan. I don’t think too many of the men in my company have liked it too much.”

“Which company are you from?”

“Easy Company. With the 506 PIR.”

You hum in response. “Maybe I’ll see you around, then.” It’s a nice thought. He seems nice. At least from what you’ve seen of him, which is nothing but a minute or so of interaction. Still, first impressions are everything, and it’s surprisingly nice to talk to a man who’s not injured and bleeding all over you, and to interact with someone other than one of your fellow nurses. They’re nice, but something about being a running joke between them because of the inordinate number of flowers you receive from your soulmate compared to them is uncomfortable. And lately, the new look of pity on their faces has been unbearable.

Because you haven’t had any new flowers appear since the invasion began.

Eugene offers you a smile, none the wiser to your internal thoughts. “Hopefully. Hey, look at that.” He points to a small patch of wildflowers growing under a street sign as you near the Aid Station. “They survived.”

“Despite everything,” you realize aloud.

If these flowers can live through everything that this haunted ground has seen, then maybe your soulmate can, too.

. . .

Having a friend in Eugene is nice. He’s quiet, but he’s kind, and once you get him to open up a bit, he’s funny. Knowing him is a gateway to meeting other people, too – specifically, the rest of his company. Being around your fellow nurses is fun, but, you have to admit, sometimes it’s nice to be around a company of men. It’s even a little fun to have them throw flirty smiles your way, or to ask you to dance on the occasion that you all find yourselves occupying one of England’s many pubs.

Although it would be remiss if you didn’t admit to having issues with some of the Easy men.

Liebgott is always good for a dance and never misses the chance to throw a wink and a smile in your direction. Popeye never fails to buy you a drink. Talbert is probably the flirtiest of them all. Open in his affections, warm with his smile, and smooth with his words. How could anyone not like him?

Several of the other men don’t bother to hide their frowns whenever they spot the two of you together, though. Which really wouldn’t bother you so much, except that one of his own friends is strangely cagey whenever you’re around.

“Gonna go find Liebgott,” Skinny Sisk mutters into his beer as a way of excusing himself from the table the second that you sit down.

Everyone else watches him go, though they make no comment about it or any move to leave themselves. Talbert glances between the two of you as his friend retreats across the bar. When he catches you frowning, he automatically reaches for your hand and rubs his thumb across your knuckles.

“So what’s the deal with him?” You ask, the question addressed to no one but open to anyone sitting at the table. Even with the dim lighting in the pub, it’s impossible to miss the guilty look on the men’s faces or the way that they avert their eyes from you. Undeterred, you try to brush it off. “I mean, once or twice is a coincidence. Five times means that he obviously doesn’t like me.”

Across the table, Shifty Powers smirks in a way that’s probably his attempt at hiding a smile. He’s one of Skinny’s best friends. If anyone would know, it would be him.

“Well Ma’am, I think the trouble is that maybe Skinny likes you a little too much.”

“Ah, come on Shifty,” Tab sighs, although he’s doing just as bad of a job suppressing his own smile.

Heat rushes to your face at the honesty of the answer. “Skinny is jealous of us?”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Talbert asks. “I got the prettiest nurse of them all, all to myself. You’re enough to make anyone jealous.”

Who would be able to resist that sentiment? Smiling, you lean closer to your boyfriend and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. For all of Talbert’s swagger, it sends butterflies into your stomach to realize that you’ve made him blush.

Tab runs his thumb over your knuckles again, a favorite affection of his. You glance down at your joined hands – and freeze. There, on the back of Talbert’s left hand is a band-aid. Though you know better, you can’t help but look down at your own – tragically uninjured – left hand. Not even a small bloom adorns your skin.

In your silence, Talbert follows your gaze. His handsome brows furrow when he registers what he’s seeing: the two of you are not soulmates.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Talbert leans close, resting his forehead against yours both in a show of affection and so that his friends sitting so close by won’t overhear. “We’re just having fun, right?”

You knew it was too good to be true. Still, a small part of you had always hoped . . .

“Of course,” you whisper back. “We can keep having fun, right?”

This time, Talbert initiates the kiss between you. “Of course,” he echoes.

. . .

Pain flashes so suddenly in your leg that you stumble at the sudden rush of the white-hot hurt. It’s so unexpected that you drop the box you’ve been carrying – thankfully empty. Still, the wood tumbles onto the stone floor of the church with a loud cracking noise that causes Renée to stop and look back at you.

“(Y/N)?” She sets down her own box and takes a step back towards you. “Are you okay?”

With trembling hands, you lift your skirt to inspect the point in your leg where the pain radiates from. Tugging down your sock reveals sprigs of bright marigolds and bunches of thistle that are quickly blooming on your skin.

“It’s never hurt before.”

“They’re hurt,” Renée says, voicing your fear. “Badly.” She takes your hands and offers them a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

But there’s no time to feel sorry. There’s work to be done as men cry out in pain and as people call out to you and your fellow nurses for help, voices and groans echoing off the church walls in the way that voices singing hymns once did.

More wounded men flow into the church in a steady trickle all morning. Somewhere out there, the Germans are getting their licks in. It’s in this mad dash that you spot Eugene stepping into the church.

For once, he doesn’t smile when he sees you. His face is set in a serious expression that’s unlike any you’ve seen on him before. Through the crowd, he makes a beeline for you, an injured man being hauled in behind him. You immediately step back, making sure there’s a place to get the new man situated.

“Who -?”

Eugene answers before you can finish. “Sisk. Shrapnel in his leg. Didn’t give him morphine.”

You pull a flask from your pocket and hand it to the injured paratrooper without thinking. He starts drinking the contents immediately as Renée and Anna inspect the damage. This is the first time you’ve ever been this close to Skinny. Usually he turns tail the second that you show up. But now, looking at his face instead of his retreating back, you realize for the first time that he’s quite handsome. Even more so, now that you know what he looks like with an expression other than a jealous pout. No wonder so many girls chase after him!

“(Y/N) . . .”

Heat rushes to your face as Renée’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. She stands on the other side of Skinny, and she’s staring down at his wounded leg.

Oh.

Once again, you lift your skirt, revealing the blooms of wildflowers that grow in the same spot and in the same shape as Skinny’s injury. Through his pain, he pushes himself up on his elbows so that he can see what everyone else is looking at.

“It’s you,” you say.

“Come now.” Renée grabs Eugene’s hand and tugs him into one of the church’s other rooms. Finding your soulmate is a rare and extremely personal thing. And you’ve just done it in a hospital full of wounded and dying men, of all places.

Skinny leans back down, staring up at you. His eyes flick over you, but his expression doesn’t change; he looks neither shocked or particularly happy. Of course you’re not required to fall head-over-heels for someone just because they’re your soulmate, and there’s no rule that says you have to spend all of happily ever after together. Still, what are the odds that your soulmate ends up being someone who dislikes you so much?

Well, not dislike, necessarily. What was it Shifty had said? Jealous.

The thought hits you so fast that you voice it without meaning to. “Did you know?”

To your surprise, Skinny sighs, squeezes his eyes shut. “Yes.”

Your heart falls. “What?”

“The first time I saw you,” Skinny explains. “I noticed some bruises on your arm. I had some small flowers in the same place. And any time I got a scrape, you would have flowers in the same spot the next time that I saw you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? You just . . . ignored me.”

He opens his eyes. “You seemed so happy with Talbert.”

“We were just having fun,” you echo Tab’s words from that night all the way back in England. “Besides, we haven’t seen each other that much since Holland.”

This seems to grab his attention. “Oh? I’m sorry.”

You shrug. It was just fun. And there’s a war going on, anyway. That always complicates things. Like this, for one.

“If it’s not too soon,” Skinny says. “And if I haven’t ruined things, do you maybe . . . Should we actually get to know each other?”

Imagine that: Skinny Sisk, who you once thought was disgusted by your very presence, actually wants to get to know you – his soulmate.

“Yes. I’d like that.” After all, you’ve been hoping to find him since you became a nurse. You gesture to his leg. “But we have to fix you up first.” You try to smile, more to see if you can draw one out of him than anything else. “We can’t exactly get to know each other if you’re dead.”

To your surprise, he chuckles. He drains a little more from the flask that he still holds. Now, with the mixture of the confession and the alcohol that’s entered his system, he gazes up at you with big eyes, a little starry. Boldly, you take his hand in yours and squeeze.

“How you holdin’ up, Skinny?” Eugene asks. He and Renée have emerged from the room they disappeared into, Eugene holding a box of what little supplies you can spare for the front lines.

Skinny smiles, looking at no one but you. It’s enough to create butterflies in your stomach and feels warm enough to grow a whole garden in your heart. “I’m in heaven, Doc.”

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #skinny sisk x reader #skinny sisk #floyd talbert #floyd talbert x reader #eugene roe #shifty powers #joe liebgott #renee lemaire #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #hbo war fanfic #hbo war #my writing #soulmate au

42 notes · View notes

kingliamappreciationweek · 1 year

Text

(This lovely poster is the handiwork of our wonderful host @sazanes!!)

Welcome to our second edition of the King Liam Appreciation Week!! Just like last year, we are holding it around the time of the International Day for Monuments and Sites, which is on April 18th.

It's been 6 years since we were first introduced to the younger brother of the "Prince" LI from RoE, and he's been capturing the minds and hearts of many Choices players ever since! Whether it's for his romantic sensibilities, his compassion, his vast knowledge of both his country and the world, or his charm and diplomacy - he is a favourite among many Choices players.

As Liam is an avid lover of History and especially of monuments and heritage sites, we continue to hold this event around 18th April! This event will happen over 5 days - from April 17th to 21st. The themes for the days are as follows:

Day 1 - April 17th - Character Appreciation/Throwback

Day 2 - April 18th - King/Historian

Day 3- April 19th - Foodie/Baklava

Day 4 - April 20th - Childhood/Family

Day 5 - April 21st - Friendships/Relationships/AU

Keep in mind that you don't have to send the content on the exact day of the theme - if you give it a little later as well, it's still fine as long as you tag the piece with the day it was meant for (#KLAW Day 1, #KLAW Day 2, etc).

Any content is welcome! Fanfic, fanart, edits, moodboards, meta, interactive media, headcanons, character appreciation... anything! As long as it celebrates Liam as a character, focuses on him and shows positive depictions of him. We also accept WIPs and a specific day (Throwback) is set aside for past pieces on Liam. If you like, you can even tell us about the process of creating that piece (here's an ask list for throwback pieces if you have doubts!).

Make sure you tag @kingliamappreciationweek in your posts, as well as the hosts @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes in your content so we don't miss it! It would also make it easier to track if you use the tags #kingliamappreciationweek and #KLAW in your posts as an extra precaution.

For inspiration, take a look at our KLAW 2022 Masterlist! It's got some brilliant pieces!!

Various fan content blogs have helped in promoting our weeks and also run great events on a weekly/monthly basis. We would definitely love for our participants to check them out in case they'd like to be part of those too: @choicesficwriterscreations, @choicesmonthlychallenge, @choicespride, @choicesprompts, @choicesholidays, @wip-wipeout-weekend, @moodmusicmonday.

Once the week is officially over, we will keep a bonus week for participants who have trouble sending content during the week itself.

We have over a month to get ready for KLAW, and we're super excited to see what our fellow Liam fans might have in store! See you all in April!!

✅✅signal boosts will be highly appreciated!!✅✅

#king liam #kingliamappreciationweek #KLAW #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #liam rys #liam rhys #over a month to go!!#signal boost

197 notes · View notes

cchickki · 5 months

Text

My Fanfic Masterlist

My fanfics through the years from both ao3 and fanfiction.net

thinking about opening requests for some one shots soon! i also have more ideas for some shorter fics, but i want to try and catch up on what i'm already working on first

complete - story is finished

in progress - story is among my wips/currently being worked on

incomplete - not sure if i'll ever finish this story

Image credits for headers: (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

Thank you all for the support <3

Spiderverse / Marvel

HBO War / Band of Brothers

Uncharted (video game series)

Mass Effect

Beyond the Deep - Kaidan Alenko x (Custom) Fem Shep ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 11/? | rating: M | status: in progress

More Stories (misc)

Movies

Serenity - Shu Lien x Mu Bai (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 1/1 | rating: G/K | status: complete

Video Games

Television Shows

#fanfiction #fanfiction masterlist #spiderverse #band of brothers #uncharted #mass effect #hbo war #long post #x reader #x oc #my fanfic

17 notes · View notes

anisette-blackwirth · 2 years

Text

SAGAU: Scaramouche comforts you after a bad day

spoiler warning: references to scaramouche's backstory and real name, inazuma archon quest spoilers

content warning: language, discussion of American politics, poverty, economics, war, mass manipulation, and Scaramouche generally being an asshole towards people not the reader. Not exactly a cult AU but close enough.

notes: I've been working on an SAGAU world for a while, just for myself. I'll go back to the beginning of the story later! I will!! Heck, I'll even set up a proper blog later. I just really need to vent this one lmao

Did I intend for this to be my first ever writing post? No. But did Roe v Wade piss me off on Friday afternoon, enough to want to get pats on the head from a skrunkly little war criminal? Also yes.

disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The advice within is not intended as actual advice. The writer does not endorse any illegal activity.

[Fanfic under the cut!]

You had your head down and buried in your arms on your desk, just trying to breathe and calm down. The day had been truly awful.

You'd woken up to a mistimed bill coming through and putting your bank account into the negatives, complete with the dumb $30 overdraft fee. You'd forgotten to grab the breakfast muffin you left on the counter before you drove to work and subsisted on crackers you had stored in your desk for lunch. You checked the internet halfway through the day and found out about Roe v Wade being overturned, and then almost had an accident on the drive home because you'd merged without looking in your blind spot twice. You felt stupid, tired, and defeated, and you'd hopped into your personal office in Genshin just to get a break from everything. You hadn't even told anyone you were here yet, you just wanted to breathe and collect yourself so you could be the capable, intelligent person they all thought you were.

So when you heard Scaramouche's hat jingling as he hopped down onto your balcony, you threw any remaining sense of self-preservation out the window and didn't bother hiding your excitement to see him.

"Scara~mouche~!" You popped your head up and looked over at the man, grinning as his eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. Aww, had your greeting confused him? Well, you did usually try to avoid giving him any ammunition to use against you in the future, in case he tried to betray you....

Well, fuck that for today.

"What's wrong with you? You look like shit," he said. You just smiled and beckoned him closer.

"C'mere", you said as you waved your hand at him. His expression turned even more confused, but he walked up next to you and even bent down when you continued waving.

"What is i-"

You pinched one of his cheeks and pulled it gently, stretching his face. "My little skrunkly~"

He slapped your arm away and stepped back, but you just propped your head on your hand and laughed as you looked at him fondly.

"What. The hell. Is wrong with you? Are you drunk?"

"No," you said with a sigh. "Just tired. And I like looking at your face."

"You don't usually act an idiot about it," Scaramouche said. He rubbed his face and glared at you - even though you were pretty sure you hadn't pinched him that hard. If you'd actually hurt him, he probably would have electrocuted you immediately or something.

"It was just... a really bad day," you admit. "I didn't have much to eat." Scaramouche doesn't say anything and continues to stare at you, so you start explaining to fill the silence. Before you can really stop yourself, you've told him about your entire day... and he's listened to every word.

You put your head back in your arms out of mortification. Of all the people you could have vented to, you really had to choose the one who was probably already disgusted by humanity? Really??

"So all your salary goes to other people? And they just reversed a law protecting you? Why the hell are you putting up with that?" Scaramouche asked.

"Because I need my job. To live. I need to make money to survive in my dumb world. I might lose my entire paycheck to bills, but at least I have food and a roof over my head." You blinked back a few stray tears born of frustration at having to defend yourself to yet another person. "I don't have the money to even leave the state. It costs money to move…. The banks won't loan me money because I pay too much in bills. And I can't break the lease on my apartment without having to pay even more, so I can't even move somewhere cheaper nearby…" You tapped the desk with one finger, and then two, just burning off frustration. "That's what I tell myself anyway. You probably think I'm just dumb and weak."

Scaramouche didn't reply. Eventually you stopped tapping the desk and just focused on breathing. No thoughts, only breaths.

"I'm just going to say it." Scaramouche spoke up after some time.

"Go 'head," you muttered into your arms.

"I manipulate people like you all the time. It's disgustingly easy."

You made a vague whine of protest into your arms. He wasn't wrong, but - A knuckle bonked you on the head before you could even finish your thought.

"Shut up! I'm not done. Most people are obvious targets, you know that?! Humans are stupid."

Instead of knocking you on the head again, his hand… turns to rest its palm on your head?? His hand doesn't move another inch, but.. is he… patting you??

Scaramouche continued without acknowledging it. "They're even stupider when you take away their safety. As long as you're focused on surviving, you're not thinking about what's happening. You just put one foot in front of the other until you drop. …You sheep are the easiest to target because you're too focused on surviving to be smart."

"So I am dumb," you mutter.

"Because you're in danger all the time," Scaramouche said with a laugh. ....It was not a kind laugh. "You can't stop and think if you have to keep moving. Being afraid makes you exhausted. And the people pulling the strings keep you tired and afraid on purpose."

Scaramouche is actively shifting his hand back and forth over your head at this point. Maybe it's absentminded? You try not to move at all, so he doesn't realize. "If I need someone to manipulate, I find people like you: isolated, with nowhere to run and everything to lose. Then I either make them depend on me, or get them angry and set them loose. Offer them a way to seize control of their own destiny for just a second."

"Like Watatsumi?" you say.

"Like Watatsumi," he agrees, and his hand moves again, all the way down your hair - okay, that was definitely a deliberate pat, what the hell- "I funneled sheep towards the priestess for over a year before we started selling the delusions. Now, use your brain: why do you think the rebellion was based in Watatsumi?"

"Uh..." You wrack your brain for the answer. The Inazuma Archon quests were a while ago, so it's hard to remember specific details, but if you think about the map... "Maybe because it was a safe place for a base? It's far away from the main city, so they could defend it better. And maybe Kokomi - er, the priestess - had her own soldiers already?"

"Right," Scaramouche says. You still don't want to move, but you imagine you hear a smile in his voice. "Watatsumi is far from Narukami, so it's easy to defend. They had their own supply lines. But distance helped the army, too. They could pretend like nothing was happening back home."

"Isolating people is how you make them vulnerable. If I had wanted the resistance to win, I'd have funded resistance fighters on Narukami directly. Or just splintered the Tri-Commission to pieces."

You turn your head to look up at him. "Yeah, that sounds like you. ...Kunikuzushi." You hesitate, but nervously add his real name onto the end of your sentence and hold your breath to see if there's a reaction. His eyes narrow, but he just hums and moves on.

"Wars keep civilizations down. The longer we kept Inazuma focused on internal war instead of the outside world, the better. Because then the people who weren't fighting for their lives had time to plan. You're in a war. The people in charge know that and are using it against you. You're stupid because they're making you stupid on purpose."

"So what do I do?" you ask.

"You still need me to spell it out for you? You're vulnerable alone, so talk to people. Find others in your world with the same situation and talk. Talking is free, right? Stop being naive and hoping for a miracle: use resources you have instead of waiting for ones you don't."

Scaramouche makes a wide gesture to the office around you. The office you had been gifted.

"You have people falling over themselves for you here, right? You're their precious god or whatever? So eat here. Sleep here. Make that alchemist teach you how to paint. Make the lawyer look at your laws."

"I'm n- Yanfei…?" you ask. Scaramouche rolls his eyes.

"Yes, obviously her. She has centuries of Liyue's laws memorized and is starting on Inazuma's. She'll help your "lease" problem. If you can bring clothes-" he tugs on your obviously modern t-shirt "-into this world, you can take things out. Have someone figure that out, or something."

Hope bubbles up in you for the first time in what feels like weeks, and you honestly can't help it: you lean over and hug the Balladeer around his waist, pressing the top of your head into his side.

"Thank you, Scaramouche. Thank you so.... so much."

His hand presses on your shoulder for a second before relenting, like he can't figure out whether to push you away or not.

"It's- ugh. Whatever."

You stay where you are, heart pounding as you push your luck. You can tell he's uncomfortable, but you still get another minute of hugging out of him before he pushes you off and walks briskly towards the balcony. But he stops before leaving completely.

"Your pronunciation sucks, by the way. It's Kunikuzushi," he says, placing exaggerated emphasis on a different syllable.

And then he's gone.

Was that…. Was that his way of asking you to say it again??

#sagau #sagau scaramouche #reader x scaramouche #genshin sagau #cult au #might edit this later #but I'm tired of looking at it for now #so out it goes~

264 notes · View notes

redwayfarers · 4 months

Text

nero's fanfic wrap-up 2023

key ocs of 2023: cassander inteus & nika perseis, and a whole host of other, lesser well known kiddos <3 most of the unpublished stuff is some exile drabbles and smut that i haven't posted yet (mostly cassmel) rip

overview

fandoms: 4 total fics: 36 fics published: 31 fics unpublished: 5 words: 45,546

masterlist organized by fandoms

wayfarer

unnamed prompt - rating: gen - pairing: cassander inteus + aeran kellis

dictionary of everyday life - rating: gen - pairing: risha sero (@just-eyris-things) + aeran kellis

it's not good for the grieving to be alone - rating: gen - pairing: cassander inteus + aisanne bjornsdottir

just what friends do - rating: gen - pairing: cassander inteus + aeran kellis

ties that sever, ties that bind - rating: teen - characters: cassander inteus, theokleia inteus, aiantes inteus

overflowing - rating: gen - pairing: cassander inteus + aeran kellis

wayfarer week: view - rating: gen - characters: cassander inteus, thesor sereno

wayfarer week: alone - rating: gen - character: cassander inteus

wayfarer week: injury - rating: gen - characters: cassander inteus, amali sero, aeran kellis

wayfarer week: mentors - rating: gen - characters: thesor sereno, dayna sereno

wayfarer week: swords - rating: gen - pairing: honoria ionneon + rienna cenric (@just-eyris-things)

wayfarer week: flirt - rating: gen - pairing: valerian varyn + melchior larkspur

one of those days - rating: gen - pairing: cassander inteus + melchior larkspur

picking your battles, and how it can go wrong - rating: gen - pairing: cassander inteus + senna osker

unnamed prompt - rating: gen - pairing: thesor sereno + rhodarth nairan

unnamed prompt - rating: gen - pairing: cassander inteus + aeran kellis

a particularly nasty weed also known as wayfarer - rating: gen - pairing: cassander inteus + senna osker

ffxiv

howlers and minstrels in the night - rating: gen - characters: nika perseis, ianera maliriq

does she like men with scars? - rating: gen - pairing: nika perseis + minfilia warde

to (kick your feet) strive but not to yield - rating: gen - pairing: nika perseis + minfilia warde

crisis he didn't ask for, but got anyway - rating: gen - pairing: nika perseis + artoirel de fortemps

cold nights in ishgard - rating: gen - pairing: nika perseis + artoirel de fortemps

unnamed prompt - rating: gen - pairing: nika perseis + artoirel de fortemps

(you) restless son - rating: mature - pairing: nika perseis + artoirel de fortemps

(you) restless son (continued) - rating: teen - pairing: nika perseis + artoirel de fortemps

bridgerton au - rating: gen - pairing: nika perseis + artoirel de fortemps

'ajde bar noćas budi mi drug - rating: gen - pairing: nika perseis + hilda ware

infamous

a long, long line - rating: gen - pairing: swan ellis + orion quinn

absence - rating: gen - pairing: swan ellis + seven lawless

blood moon

safe - rating: gen - pairing: angelina jakovljević + farroq khan

night runs - rating: teen - pairing: cassander iodinnis + roe martin

the exile

setting the stage - rating: gen - pairing: alysannyra ainsaf + sabir du vaelas

two snakes, one bed - rating: explicit - pairing: cassander sero + nikke ivante

inside the gift horse's mouth - rating: gen - pairing: cassander sero + nikke ivante + sabir du vaelas

#jfc this took me a while to get done #but it's done!#a fic masterlist!#off to link it to my pinned #40k words in one year... jesus

5 notes · View notes

victoriawaterfield · 15 days

Note

e m u for the fanfic ask game!!

E: What character do you identify with most? Is there a certain fic of yours that captures these qualities particularly well?

ocean o'connell rosenberg. obviously. a lot of my ocean fics show how much i relate to her, i think. she's just. so real

M: What’s the weirdest AU scenario you’ve ever come up with? Did it turn into a story?

oh god. uhmmmmmm. currently i cannot think of any‼️ or at least like any that i came up w on my own ? a good amount of the super weird ones i come up w come w me & my friend joking. however uhhhhh. roe & doe au? mayhaps? & that did turn into a story !!

U: Is there a pairing you would like to write, but haven’t tried yet.

i am going 2 write a doctorjack fic SOON !!! i swear !!!

#annie.txt

3 notes · View notes

gyunikum · 1 year

Text

First Lines Meme

I am very grateful to be tagged by @swimmingfoxsticks and @bobparkhurst both of whose fanfics I’ve greatly enjoyed!

Rules: post the first lines of your 10 most recent fanfics.

1. By request of the grass (SAS Rogue Heroes, Paddy/Eoin)

Paddy holds, in a vised grip, Eoin’s striped jersey, cloud white and sea blue, now all grey brown.

2. Desert swimmers and upside-down sinners (SAS Rogue Heroes, Paddy/Eoin)

‘Stirling’s got a place in Cairo,’ says Eoin, driving carefully over a soft patch of sand that looks like the rest that is not soft.

3. To the burned mountain over Sicily (SAS Rogue Heroes, Reg/Johnny)

The town of Augusta was alive with the din of post-battle procedures.

4. Sunder and Surrender (Band of Brothers, Ron Speirs/Eugene Roe)

There was an ancient authority to the mountains of Austria that only poems could reflect.

5. Gathering Storms (Dunkirk, Collins/Peter Dawson, HP!au)

“It’s for the greater good.”

“Whose greater good? Certainly not any of us.”

“Mine!”

6. Oasis Reverie (Dunkirk, Collins & Farrier)

Somewhere above the Western Desert, Collins chases Farrier’s Spitfire.

7. Desolate and Solace (Dunkirk, Collins/Farrier)

The sand is so grey, it doesn’t resemble sand. Ash—the old world burned layers back to expose rotten flesh upon which the kingdom come’s foundations are built.

8. When the sun dismisses the fog (of war) (Dunkirk, Collins/Farrier)

"Frequency check, Fortis Two. What’s the plan after this mission?"

“We’ll grab a pint when we get back. I’ll even watch the sunset with you,” Farrier promised.

9. Letters for a golden home (Dunkirk, Collins/Peter Dawson)

It takes Collins a few more months after the end of the war to leave the airbase and go home—home, for him, is the endless stretches of the sky, the gasoline slick belly of a Spitfire [...]

10. 'Cause there's a blue sky waiting for us tomorrow (Dunkirk, Collins/Farrier)

Collins and Farrier had a ritual before every mission—their own lucky charm, they called it, a tradition of sorts for only the two of them.

tagging @almost-a-class-act @butternuggets-blog @rosescruensixxam @booksoncanvas

#i admit that i cheated here and there; left out some other fics that have come dangerously close to be orphaned #but these 10 fics here i would never delete in a hundred years #i sincerely hope that sasrh can become something like my next dunkirk phase bc dunkirk was an extremely productive and enjoyable time for me #fic meme #sas rogue heroes #paddy x eoin #reg x johnny #dunkirk #collins x farrier #collins x peter

22 notes · View notes

msmargaretmurry · 8 months

Note

11, 18, 20 please?

11. Link your three favorite fics right now.

augh okay so, i have not been reading a ton of fic this summer? i've been in a big books mood. i have like 50 hockey fics open in tabs that i will very likely be injecting directly into my brain the moment grad school kills the part of me that can read books for pleasure. i share this because i assume the people want hockey fic recs but tragically i don't really have any i haven't linked before, so this these are some old non-hockey favorites that i've very recently revisted for reasons.

By Small and Small by luxover — band of brothers, babe/roe, teen, 43k, constantly returning to this fic to bask in how masterfully done the modern au is in a fandom where i usually hate modern aus!

And like the cycle of the year, we begin again by katherynefromphilly — bbc merlin, arthur/merlin, mature, 207k, the ending to that godforsaken tv show that we deserved, once every 2–3 years i go into a fugue state and reread this whole thing and apparently that is where i am right now 🥴

Hunger by Helenish — the bear, carmy/richie, mature, 3.3k, obviously after s2 of the bear i had to reread!!

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

usually during the writing process, but sometimes after i have a draft, and sometimes when i have opened the ao3 new work page to post. for short fics it's usually just a lyric or quote that i think kinda encapulates the theme of the fic (a time-honored fanfic tradition). for longer fics, i usually have an idea of what kind of vibe i want the title to have long before i'm done writing, so workshopping title ideas becomes a fun little procrastination activity for when i should be writing but am not writing. with tnno, i knew all along that the title would be tnno; with haw, i didn't title it until i had the ao3 posting page open — both of those have titles that are references within the fics themselves as opposed to references to outside things (although "the next next one" is obviously also stolen from the hockey media). i don't know whomst among my tumblr friends has read any of my non-hockey stuff but "come and make the hymns of you" is a walt whitman reference and one of my favorite titles i've used. "the very best of" is a reference to career retrospective albums (e.g. "the very best of fleetwood mac").

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

oh yes very much so, haha. my characters love to have important conversations in the kitchen or in the middle of the night or in the kitchen in the middle of the night. i love metaphors, i love symbolism. there's always gonna be some fuckin symbolism. weather metaphors. themes-wise, my characters are constantly learning to trust themselves and trust the people who love them. they're always convincing themselves that they're content with what they have while actively drowning in yearning. i KNOW i have words/expressions that appear a lot but i'm kind of blanking right now. probably like, the physical sensations of emotion. tightness in the chest and lumps in the throat and turning stomachs all that 😂

#ask #writing meme

8 notes · View notes

artvmisia · 3 months

Text

Tagged by @dustyjumpwjngs, thank you!

name/alias: artemis

country: usa

which of the series have you seen? Band of Brothers, Masters of the Air

use an emoji or one word to describe your favourite character in an hbo war miniseries: BoB: ✂️ MoTA: 🤢

ultimate ship: Not much of a shipper but if I had to pick, maybe Webgott?

favourite fic: I'm also not much of a fic reader lmao so I'm just gonna plug my own BoB fic that I wrote 10 YEARS AGO god I'm old. The Curiosity of Chocolate, a Renee lives AU fic where she and Roe become pen pals after Easy leaves Bastogne. Not a ship fic unless you choose to interpret it that way, so do check it out even if you don't like Eugene/Renee.

what are some of the ways you interact in this fandom? I was most active in the fandom back in the 2010s, I had a dedicated BoB sideblog here and was writing fanfic back then too. My interest in the fandom waned for a couple years after that but was recently reignited when BoB came out on Netflix in the fall, and now MoTA is on so I'm back in baby. I probably won't be writing again but will be out there reblogging all your gifs and edits.

favourite colour: Pastel pink and black

current favourite song: Enchanted by Taylor Swift

complete this sentence:"where the hell is ___ company?!" Dog

other accounts or socials: This blog is my main fandom space now

list one other fandom member (mutual or a follower you admire) for some appreciation: Not all of them are HBO war fandom members but @sidraofthewildflowers, @mercurygray, @snckt and @xxluckystrike are mutuals I share interests with whose posts I love and whose presence I am always appreciating on my dash!

#tag game

3 notes · View notes

roerayren · 1 year

Text

Hello! I’m Roe, artist and writer and I’m excited to finally start posting my stuff here. Currently I’ve been focusing on this AU of Mechanic! Y/N in the fnaf SB universe. So yea looking forward to sharing my ideas publicly now instead of rambling to my friends for hours. Yee

This is the link to the fanfic, Loose Screws! Hurray!

I'm updating chapters as soon as I can, please forgive me for any misspelling or mistakes in the writing. Thank you for reading! :D

31 notes · View notes

softguarnere · 2 years

Text

A World Without Color Is A World Without You

Eugene Roe x reader

A/N: What's up y'all?! @brassknucklespeirs and I have been talking about soulmate aus, and now they're living rent free in my brain. I had a wild day at school, and using those feeling to create angst was strangely therapeutic, I won't lie. I hope you enjoy this, and my requests are always open if you have something specific you would like to see! (As always, this is written for the fictional depictions from the show -- absolutely no disrespect to the real-life veterans!) 💕🕊️

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST! The usual HBOwar stuff: war, guns, injury, blood, language. I also didn't really proof read this, so take that for what it's worth.

"So is it like, a cultural thing?" George asks. In between his shivering, he gives you a sideways glance, watching you tense up as you continue staring straight ahead through the darkness, watching the line. He shrugs. "I've just always wondered."

"About what?"

He shrugs again. "Well, back in Toccoa, I kinda thought maybe you were just shy. But I know that's not true; you're pretty chatty after a few drinks. I remember reading somewhere once, before the war, maybe back in school, that in some cultures it's rude, or even taboo."

On your other side, Joe huffs. The cool air in front of him clouds up with what little warmth he can muster. "George, I'm sure if she wanted to talk about it, she woulda told ya by now."

"Yeah, Luz," you agree. "If I knew what the hell you were talking about, I probably could have answered you twelve different times."

The radioman knocks his shoulder against your own. "Awe, come on (Y/N). My brain is frozen -- gimme a break."

"Okay. I'll answer if you actually ask the question."

"Okay." Luz nods. For someone who was so eager to find answers a moment before, he seems unsure of himself when you give him permission to ask. He stops looking at you and trains his own eyes on the line, voice softening when he asks, "Why do you never look anyone in the eye?"

There it is.

Toye reaches behind you to smack Luz on the back of his helmet.

"Ow!"

"You can't just ask that!" Joe reprimands. "Besides, you could probably just figure it out from context."

Joe is right. It seems like most people should have figured it out by now. Maybe then you wouldn't have so many sweet-talking replacements sauntering up to you with calls of, "Hey, Shy Girl, you found your man yet, or are you playin' hard to get?" or "Baby, I bet I could be the one to make you see color."

Because that's the thing: your world has always been shades of black and white, and it will remain that way until you look into the eyes of your soulmate. The first color you ever see will be the color of their eyes, and then -- according to everything you've heard your friends and family describe -- the rest of the world will follow as a whole universe of color is revealed to you. But therein lies several problems for you.

Problem one: you didn't find your soulmate back at home before the war. Which, you initially thought, might be okay. Maybe you would meet them after. Or during, some of your more romantic-minded friends told you dreamily before you shipped out.

Which made problem two all too real to you: if you meet your soulmate and then they die, the world will go back to being black and white.

The realization had hit you like a punch in the gut. Everyone else seemed to think it was tragically romantic, but not you. You had always known the world as shades of plainness and shadow. How could you stand it, if you discovered the beauty of the world, only to then have it stripped away from you? And worse, how could you stand to lose the person that you loved -- that you were destined to be with? Something that was all too possible in the middle of a war.

So you made a decision. A hard one, but one that seemed necessary -- you wouldn't look a stranger in the eye again until after the war.

Under the blanket of night, huddled together with your friends for warmth, you tell them exactly that. No one can tell if the slight shake in your voice is from emotion or from the cold, and no one calls it into question. You've never told anyone before. You're not sure how they might react.

Joe pats your knee. He's not a man of words, but his action says it all.

"I'm sorry," Luz whispers. "I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's okay," you reassure him, trying to smile, more for yourself than for him. To lighten the mood, you decide to do what he would do if he weren't in an awkward position -- you crack a joke. "Why does it matter, Luz? You worried we might be soulmates?"

Taken off guard, he laughs. "I won't lie, (Y/N), the thought has occurred to me."

It had taken a lot of strength to tell them your secret. Now though, they know -- secrets rarely feel so heavy when there's someone who can help you carry them. Your burden reduced, you turn towards him in the darkness. "Well, let's find out."

"What?" Out of reflex, he turns to you.

Your eyes meet and . . .

Nothing. The world is still black and white.

"That answers that question," Luz says.

"Toye, you wanna find out if we're destined to be together?" You tease.

"Eh, why not." You blink owlishly at each other in the darkness, searching each others eyes for something that might not have been there before. Nothing happens, but neither of you breaks eye contact.

A smile pulls at the corner of Joe's mouth, and before you know it, the two of you are giggling at the idea of finding out that one of your oldest war-buddies might have been your soulmate all along without you realizing it. Who knows if it would have been funny anywhere but Bastogne -- the environmental pressures are starting to get to everyone -- but in that moment, it's the most hilarious thing in the world. Even George is shaking with laughter.

"Shhhh!" Only the sound of crunching snow rushing towards your fox hole can stop the joke. Compton leans down, his eyes never leaving the line in front of him as he hisses, "Keep it down! You wanna give away our position?"

"Sorry, Lieutenant," you giggle.

For all your trying, it's not until he's long gone that the three of you manage to catch your breath. Somehow, it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, however slightly. You can look your best friends in the eye. That's something.

You fall asleep between them, the world still black and white, but not quite so dismal as you once imagined your dull color scheme to be.

"I've been workin' on the railroad, all the livelong day," you sing along with the other men, your grin the widest it's been in a while. Finally out of the fox holes, finally haven taken Foy, finally moving on.

"I've been working on the railroad, just to pass the time away --"

You're just beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, things will start to look up for Easy Company when something zings by your ear. One of the men beside you falls to the ground, and suddenly, the world around you descends into chaos.

A few more men drop like flies. Others tumblr over each other like dominos, some of them trying to flatten themselves to the ground for cover while others trip over each other to duck behind one of the nearby buildings.

"Sniper!" someone calls out. A body slams into yours as you try to scramble away from the tank you had been sitting on. The force of their body against yours sends you stumbling. It's just enough to hold you back from safety, and you feel the hot metal rip through your thigh.

You cry out as you hit the ground. Around you, bullets still race to find new marks as the sniper's rifle peppers the air with the sound of rounds being fired. You're face down on the dirty snow. It's harder than it should be not to roll over and call out for help, but the image of Julian back in Bastogne enters your mind and you settle for clenching your right hand into a fist and shoving it over your mouth to muffle your cries as you wait for it to be over.

More gunshots. Some cheers. How long have you been on the ground? A few minutes? Hours?

Someone grabs you by the shoulder and flips you over. Only then do you gasp out in pain.

"(Y/L/N)! Where are you hit?" Sergeant Lipton demands.

"Thigh." You try to sit up, but the Sergeant holds you down as he calls out for a medic. "Are the others okay?"

"Shifty got the sniper," Lipton assures you with a weak smile.

"But what about the others who got hit?"

"Alright, where'd they get her?" Spina asks as he appears beside you. From your awkward angle on your back, you can see him grimace as he looks at your thigh, which is pulsing with white hot pain.

"Is it bad? Is it --" you have to stop and swallow before you can continue. "Did they get an artery?"

"Roe's got the morphine," Spina says, looking over his shoulder and calling for the Louisiana boy before glancing back down at you. "Just take it easy, (Y/N)."

You grit your teeth through a spark of pain. It's hot and bright -- probably what stars feel like as they burn out.

"Hey --" Lipton pats your cheek with his hand, trying to keep you grounded. "Stay with me, (Y/N). Roe's comin', okay? Hey, at least you didn't get shot in the ass like Perco, huh?"

"Mighta hurt less," you hiss.

"She got morphine?" A thick accent asks as Doc Roe appears above you. He glances down at your thigh and then at you. And then --

Something happens.

Roe must sense it too, because just as his eyes start to move back to your injury, he stops short. Something about his eyes . . . it's hard to describe. It's unlike anything you've ever seen before.

They're not black and white, you realize with a start. You gasp sharply, not sure if it's from pain or from the shock. Then, slowly, the world around you draws into focus in a way it never has before. The blacks and whites you've become so accustomed to fade away as color seeps in, like water paints bleeding onto a fresh sheet of paper, filling in the world in ways that you didn't even know was possible.

"Doc, are you gonna help her?!" Lipton asks as Roe falls to his knees beside you, still staring straight into your eyes. Neither of you take note of Spina cursing in confusion, grabbing Doc's bag and tearing through it for morphine and bandages.

"It's you," you gasp at the same time that Roe whispers, "I found you."

Lipton looks between the two of you in confusion. The minute it clicks, his jaw drops into a capital O. "Oh shit."

"Right --" Spina pats your leg and stands up as more people approach. " -- Didn't hit an artery, but she'll need to visit an aide station to get this cleaned up. I've done what I can."

Aide station?

"Wait, no!" You try to push yourself up, try to prove that you're fine. If you get taken to a hospital, it might take forever for them to let you out. And then how will you get back to Easy? Something could happen to Roe before you return.

You grasp the Cajun boy's hand as you're lifted onto the piece of wood that's serving as a crude stretcher. Over the rumbling of the approaching Jeep engine, you plead with him. "Don't let them take me, Doc. I'll be fine. I'm fine! I don't wanna go."

"You gotta," he says sadly. "Your leg . . ."

"I want to stay here," you insist. "Please. Please, Gene."

"I'll find you." He presses a kiss to the back of your hand as they load you into the Jeep. "I promise, we'll find each other again, okay? But you gotta go now, (Y/N)."

Your tightly knitted fingers unravel as the vehicle starts to move, unnoticing and uncaring of your feelings on the matter. For the first time since you got hit, you feel your eyes grow hot and watery. There's no use trying to hold back the tears that slip out as you're driven away from the boy who colored in your world.

From the boy who's your soulmate.

#I said angst and I meant angst #bon appetit ya know?#band of brothers x reader #eugene roe x reader #doc roe #eugene roe #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers #my writing #soulmate au #george luz #joe toye #carwood lipton #ralph spina #buck compton

146 notes · View notes